His life was slipping through his fingers…
Blood, blood everywhere… The warzone was one fallen body after another, carcasses stretching as far as the eye could see, coating the ground so thickly, there was no choice but to walk on them.
He laughed bitterly, his red-stained teeth gleaming as snow danced lightly in the air, cascading soundlessly to the white floor.
He stood among the bodies, a demented smirk on his face, his white hair matted to his face with the scarlet life-liquid and sweat – with the acidic rain that fell endlessly and the filth that came from standing amongst such fatality.
He wished, not for the first time, that he could set the world aflame so that there would never again be snow.
His smirk grew until it slit across his face, his jagged teeth revealed. His once vivid violet eyes were soaked in crimson. His chest was bare, red smeared from one side of his torso to the other. His black pants were ripped and sagging in the constant downpour and splatter of life. He wore a pale scarf around his throat – the only thing amongst the miles of destruction not touched with a single drop of blood. The ends of it fluttered angrily in the wail of wind that accompanied the raging storm.
He could feel darkness creeping in on him. It clawed at his mind, making it so much more difficult to form a coherent thought. He wasn't scared – that much he knew; bitter, angry, hateful, even lonely, but not scared. Death was his friend. He had fed the abyss that was death many times in the past, now death would accept him as well.
The first to oppose him… was everyone whose life was hidden in the shadows, whose humanity was farce and their life far from what humans would call 'normal'. They formed wave after wave of attacks, continuously bombarding him until he collapsed beneath their combined forces. One of them he could have taken on without trouble; a few of them he could have taken down with only some difficulty; all of them, however… He lost.
The only warmth he had was that of the blood seeping from his body, sinking into the winter crystals and soaking the ground red around him in a growing pool.
They dragged his half-dead corpse into the frozen wilderness, announcing that he shall die there – alone, weak, and without the warmth of summer that he had so desperately strived for as well as with not a flower in sight. It was to be his punishment – it wasn't even the frigid tundra he had been born to. He was on unfamiliar ground. Nonetheless, they left him there, not one of them ever looking back as they departed to fix the mess he himself had created.
His world dipped into blackness, an endless void that swallowed him whole. There was no pain, no cold, no thought… Just a deep silence. And he was… sad.
Staring at their retreating backs, all he wanted to do was ask them why they were so cruel – why they had driven him down when he had been so close to creating the perfect world; a world where everyone was beneath him, a world where he had the largest family ever to be known, a world where he would protect and love them all as if they were his own children seeking solace. Scarlet tears stained his cheeks.
He had never found the love he had so desperately hunted down.
Author's Note: I'm not completely sure what I was thinking about or how this started, but I was tackled by this vicious plot bunny on Saturday and it has hardly let me rest since, so… Yeah.
The good news is that the story is already finished; however, I am only going to update a few chapters at a time (depending on how long or short they are or how excited I am).
Also! I've debating whether or not to have a beta for this story… Anyone know how to go about it?